The Art of Thawing
by Sunflowerscoffee
Summary: more huddy family fic from me - this one dealing with House's childhood. trigger warning for mentions of child abuse.


Hi, Huddy friends. This is a new little story that I've been wanting to do for a while. I hope you enjoy it! I wrote this while sick so I apologize in advance, as I'm sure there are typos! Enjoy xx

* * *

It starts one night with the perfect storm of exhaustion and irritation. House has just solved a case, but it took six days and four potential lawsuits. Cuddy drives them home after her own five hour board meeting where she had to justify massive expense increases in multiple departments. When they arrive and relieve Marina, they're greeted by a hyperactive Rachel who desperately wants to show off her brand new toy castle. Three times Cuddy asks Rachel to put the castle away until later, to leave it in her room where it belongs. But Rachel is five, and the castle is sparkly and comes with built in lights and music that goes off every ten minutes. So the requests go ignored.

Cuddy is changing out of her work clothes when she hears a commotion outside the bedroom. She flings the door open and finds House on the floor next to the damn castle which he's clearly tripped over. She internally panics when she notices he's hugging his bad leg to his chest.

"Rachel!" House yells. "Are you kidding me?!"

He sounds more annoyed than angry, but Rachel stares at him in disbelief. It's jarring because he hardly ever yells at home, and never in front of Rachel. For all his many temper tantrums at the hospital, his abrasiveness towards his patients, his edges soften under their roof. Rachel's eyes well up with tears at the unexpected change in his demeanor. Without so much as a word in response, she turns and runs to her room.

"Are you okay?" Cuddy offers House her hand in order to help him up. He's skinned his knee on the floor, and there's a little bit of blood trickling down his leg.

"I'm fine," he says, though he seems shaken.

"Let me get you a band-aid before I go check on her."

"Make it a princess one," he quips.

The joke makes her laugh and relax, because she assumes it means he's recovered and the pain isn't too terrible. But when she returns from the bathroom, band-aid in hand, she can't find him anywhere. For a brief moment she wonders if he's left. She quickly reminds herself that he doesn't do that anymore, doesn't run when things get hard. But it's possible he's taken the bike around the block for some air, which he often does when he needs space or time to think.

She walks down the hall and opens the front door, hoping she'll be able to hear the engine of the bike to confirm her suspicion. Instead, she finds House sitting on the steps of her walkway, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and shorts despite the bitter cold.

"What are you doing?" She asks.

He doesn't say anything, doesn't even turn around to acknowledge her.

"House, it's twenty degrees outside."

"It's not that bad."

"I'm not letting you sit out here in the freezing…"

Before she can finish the sentence, she puts it all together. She thinks of the evenings as cold as this one when House was forced to sleep outside. She thinks of his father and all the unfair punishments he doled out over the years. She realizes that House isn't upset because he fell, or because his leg hurts, or even because Rachel was out of line. House is punishing himself.

She sits down next to him on the steps and gently puts the band-aid on his knee. "You're not him."

"I yelled at Rachel."

"Barely," she corrects, because the guilt far outweighs the crime. "You raised your voice, but you weren't cruel. You think I've never yelled at her?"

"I've never really heard you yell at her."

"I try my best not to, but it does happen. It has and it will again."

"She didn't even do anything wrong. She just wanted to show us her stupid toy."

"But she has to learn to listen. I told her I would play with her as soon as we ate something."

"The look on her face."

"It was probably confusion more than anything else. You two are in this weird transition between your juvenile friendship and you being more of…a parent."

"Cuddy," he sighs, as if it physically pains him. "I can't."

"You can't or you don't want to? Because if you don't want to, I can accept that. But if you think you can't, you're wrong. And sometimes it seems like you're actually the one who wants something more with her. I don't know. Maybe I'm imagining it."

It's the first time she's said it out loud, because she's been too scared of how he'd react. But suddenly she feels it's important for him to know that she's been quietly watching the two of them with admiration and amazement.

"You're not imagining it," he says so quietly she almost doesn't hear it.

"Okay, good."

"No, it's not good. That's the point. It's terrible. You shouldn't want me to be her… whatever."

Cuddy can't help but smile, even though she knows how hard this is for him. "You're the only person I would ever want to be her… whatever."

"It's a mistake."

"You said the same thing when we started dating. Aren't you glad we didn't listen to you? It's the same pattern. You're happy, so you're scared."

"This is different."

"I know it's a different kind of scary. But that's normal. I'm sure you remember my first days with her. I thought I couldn't do it either."

"No. It's different because I'm an asshole. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into. But Rachel doesn't. She doesn't deserve to grow up around all my baggage when I've been conditioned to…"

"You're not an asshole when it comes to Rachel," she interrupts. "Do you think I would let an asshole into her life?"

"No. But you _do_ have a notorious blind spot when it comes to me."

"Maybe at work. Not here. I see how you are with her. You're a natural. More than I ever would've guessed."

"Because right now all I have to do to keep her happy is make funny faces and put on cartoons. Do you actually think I'm capable of doing what comes next?"

Cuddy hates his self doubt, but loves the way he's thinking about the future — that he imagines what it would mean for Rachel to grow up around him, because he finally trusts that their relationship is going to last.

"I think you're going to be even better at what comes next."

"How can you say that?"

"Because you've been there with me through everything in the last decade of my life. And because you would do anything for the people you love. Come with me to check on Rachel and you'll see that she's fine."

"In a minute."

"House, no," Cuddy says, standing up. "You know I'm usually fine giving you whatever space you need but I'm not leaving you out here to punish yourself when you haven't done anything wrong. Please come inside with me."

He looks up at her and hesitantly nods in agreement.

-/-

* * *

"Did I hurt your leg?" Rachel asks, the second House and Cuddy enter her bedroom.

"Is that why you're upset?" Cuddy realizes. "Because House fell?"

Rachel confirms through her sniffles. "That castle is supposed to be magic but it's _not_ 'cause House hurt his leg even more."

Her sweet, beautiful girl isn't upset that she was yelled at, she's upset because she thinks she's responsible for hurting someone she loves. House is worried he hurt Rachel and Rachel is worried she hurt House and if Cuddy could wrap them both up in her arms forever it wouldn't be long enough.

"He's fine, baby. He only skinned his knee."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. But he could've gotten hurt. That's why we need you to be careful with your things and to listen to us when we tell you to put something away."

"I'm sorry," Rachel offers, looking directly at House.

"Don't worry about it," he says casually, as if he hadn't been overthinking their entire lives a few minutes earlier. "I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"Your leg is really 'kay?"

"Yup. Promise. But there is some bad news."

"What?"

House puts his sock-clad foot on the bed, showing off his knee. "I stole your last Little Mermaid band aid."

Rachel laughs, stands, and wraps her arms around his neck. Cuddy thinks it's resolved and is proud of herself for how she handled the two of them and a situation that could've been far, far worse.

-/-

* * *

But that feeling is short-lived, because the same night Cuddy wakes up to find House writhing in his sleep. She observes him for a few seconds because she's not sure what's happening. She's woken up to him in pain plenty of times before, but this doesn't seem like a leg issue, it seems like a nightmare. If he's had them before, she's never witnessed it.

"House," she whispers gently. "House?"

He's whimpering and doesn't show any signs that he's heard her. "Hey," she tries again, more aggressively this time, nudging him on the shoulder. "House, wake up."

His eyes shoot open, startled as he readjusts to his real surroundings. "You're okay," Cuddy reassures him. "I'm right here."

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"Don't be."

"I figured you don't get woken up enough by Rachel's nightmares, thought I'd throw some of my own into the mix."

His labored breathing allows her to see through his deflection. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Okay."

"But now that we're up, maybe we could..."

"Seriously? Nightmare to horny in two seconds flat?"

It's a distraction tactic and she knows it. She lets him use it because if he wants to seek comfort in her, she's happy to give it. She kisses him soft and everywhere and tries to make sure he knows that she would do anything to make him feel safe and loved.

-/-

* * *

House seems fine at work— he's himself with his patients, his team, and even with Wilson. He also seems fine with Rachel, despite the momentary setback. Only Cuddy notices that he's a little quieter than usual, and a little in his own head. The nightmares persist, and so does his refusal to talk about them.

One morning she wakes up and he's not in bed with her, which is odd, because he's never up first. She hears the water running in the bathroom and wonders if he had a bad pain night. Sometimes hot water helps alleviate the ache and she assumes that's what he's doing.

She walks into the bathroom, hoping to join him or at least offer to help. "You feeling stiff today?" She asks as she opens the shower curtain.

She finds House standing there, directly under the water, his entire body shivering. Instantly she can tell the water is cold. There's no steam in the bathroom and somehow it even smells cold. She puts her hand under the water to confirm what she already knows. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Taking a shower," he says, as if he's unaware of the temperature.

"House. Get out. Now."

He won't listen and she's not even sure that he can fully hear her. She knows she can't pull him out herself— she's not strong enough, and if he loses his balance he'll fall and end up hurt. So Cuddy steps into the shower, still in her nightgown, and turns off the water. He finally snaps out of it when he sees her soaked and shivering too. "Cuddy, stop."

"Why?"

"You'll get sick."

"So you don't want me to get sick, but you're perfectly fine making yourself sick?"

He stands there, unable to hold eye contact for long, water dripping off him. She grabs him by the shoulders. "Please, please talk to me."

"If I could explain it, I would."

"Can you try?"

"Sometimes I feel like the only way to stop thinking about it is to shut off my brain."

"Thinking about what? Your dad?"

House nods.

"By hurting yourself? Don't you see how dangerously close that is to the philosophy that had you addicted to Vicodin?"

"It's water, Cuddy. Water. Not drugs."

"I know, but I don't want this to escalate."

"You think I'm going to relapse?"

"I didn't say that. Do _you_ think you're going to relapse?"

"No. This isn't about physical pain."

"Physical pain isn't the only thing you used Vicodin for and we both know that."

"We need to dry off," he diverts.

Together they step out of the shower and Cuddy reaches for the towels, wrapping him up in one as quickly as possible before grabbing one for herself.

"It's pissing me off that this is happening now," House muses aloud. "It's been so long since I even thought about him."

"It's because of Rachel."

"Maybe."

She considers that it might be awkward for him to talk about this with her, when it's so closely entangled with their life and her kid. "Do you maybe want to talk about this with someone who isn't me?"

"You think I need therapy?"

"I just want to help. I feel useless."

"You're the only thing that does help," he tells her. "I'll talk to someone, if that's what you want."

"This isn't about what _I_ want. It's about you feeling better."

"I won't let it escalate."

She knows she can't trust that, as much as she wants to.

"You can't control it, House. This seems a lot like PTSD and that's a serious…"

"I'm fine," he cuts her off.

She looks into his eyes, notices the dark circles under them. She has no idea when he last slept through the night. "You need to sleep."

"Want to give me the morning off?"

"Come to work with me and nap in my office."

"Why? So you can watch me?"

"Yes," she admits, because she won't lie to him about this. "I don't want you to be alone right now."

"I guess that's fair enough."

They get dressed and go to the hospital together. Cuddy sits at her desk and makes phone calls and after an hour House falls asleep on the couch. She tries to focus on the paperwork in front of her, but she watches him breathe in and out instead.

When she's sure he's truly asleep, she goes into her office bathroom, closes the door, and bursts out crying. She's sad and hurting for him in a way only possible through unconditional love. But she's also growing increasingly angry that someone did this to House. Her House. Nobody understands his capacity for love. But she does. People think he's less capable, but she knows he's infinitely more. And she can't let that go to waste. She can't. She won't.

Ironically, she thinks about what House would do if he were in her shoes. She knows he would figure out exactly how to help her. He's done that for her for years, even before they were together. He was there to catch her when she fell, and sometimes to stop her from falling in the first place.

Cuddy knows it's time for her to step the hell up and return the favor.

-/-

* * *

Three weeks later, Cuddy shows up in Wilson's office with half a plan. It's not as well formulated as one of House's plans, but it's something. It's all she has, really — a nagging feeling, an instinct she wants to follow.

"You have a minute?" She asks, before sitting down across from him.

"Sure. What's up?"

"I need to know if you're actually capable of keeping something from House."

"Of course I am."

"Really? I mean, really?"

"If it's important to you, I can keep a secret from House," Wilson promises. "Although I do feel like I just traveled back in time several years."

"There's something I need to do without him knowing until it's done. Can you give me his mom's address?"

"Oh, sure, that's easy. You sending her something you don't want House to know about?"

"Yeah," Cuddy answers. "Me."

"What?"

"I'm going to see her."

"Why?"

"Because I need to talk to her."

"Ever heard of a phone?"

"This isn't the kind of stuff you say over the phone."

"What do you mean? Is House okay?"

"He's fine."

Wilson looks at her skeptically. "That wasn't very convincing."

"I need to talk to her, mother to mother. That's all I can tell you right now. I hope you trust me enough to believe me when I say it's important."

"Of course I do. But do you think you're going to get away with visiting House's mom without him noticing? The man who notices when you eat blueberry yogurt for breakfast instead of strawberry?"

Cuddy already had the same thought, which is why she's waited until now to execute the idea she's been mulling over for weeks. "I'm registered for that big administrative conference in DC this weekend. House has known about it for months. I'm going to leave when I was supposed to, but take a detour to Lexington instead. I'm going to tell him about it, but not until I get back."

"Maybe that could work."

Wilson hands over the address, written out on a sticky note.

"Thank you for this."

She turns to leave, but before she can, Wilson stops her. "Cuddy, just so you know—Mrs. House is… she's not a bad person."

"I didn't say she was."

"No, you didn't. But you have super scary Cuddy face on."

"I do not."

"Yes, you do. I know you love him, so I'm sure your motives are pure. But maybe consider if a seventy-year-old widow can handle being on the receiving end of super scary Cuddy, okay?"

Wilson means well, he always does. But she needs to do this, without his judgment, and that means she has to lay down the law. "_You'll _be on the receiving end of it if you tell anyone about this conversation," she says in her most threatening tone.

-/-

* * *

House drives Cuddy to the train station, and the two of them sit in the car for a few last minutes together before her trip. House isn't looking forward to her leaving, because he doesn't want to be left alone with his thoughts. Thankfully she's assigned him the best distraction of all— watching Rachel for the weekend. Apparently Cuddy still trusts him wholeheartedly, even though he's been struggling lately.

"I'm kind of surprised you didn't call Julia to babysit."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you're leaving your daughter with a nutcase."

Cuddy cringes. "No, I'm not. I'm leaving my daughter with one of her favorite people on the planet."

"Yes, because five-year-olds are known to have excellent judgement."

"Do you _want_ me to call Julia?"

"No," he admits, because he refuses to fail her. "I've got it under control."

"I know you do."

"And I'll call Wilson if I need to double team her."

"It's only three days. I think you'll have fun together. Try your best not to have Mac and Cheese for every meal."

"You better go. Can't keep all those punctual administrators waiting."

"I love you, House," Cuddy says, leaning over to kiss him goodbye. "Call me if you need anything. Or if you just want to talk."

She looks at him with so much affection, he's sure it'll last him the whole weekend.

-/-

* * *

Cuddy's train gets delayed for two hours. When she finally arrives in DC, she has to rent a car and drive four more hours to Lexington in some of the most horrific traffic she's ever experienced. By the time she pulls up to the address Wilson gave her, it's already late afternoon. Cuddy is exhausted and starving and is certain she both smells and looks horrible. She considers going to her hotel first, to maybe put on something nicer than jeans and an old sweater, but she's afraid she might lose her nerve. So she parks the car, makes her way up the walkway, takes a deep breath, and knocks.

It only takes a few seconds for the door to open, for Cuddy to come face to face with the woman who raised the man she loves.

"I know you," Blythe says, looking her up and down. "You're...Lisa Cuddy."

"Yes."

"Oh, god. Is Greg okay?"

"He's fine. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I had a medical conference nearby and I thought..."

Blythe sighs. "He couldn't bother to tell me his girlfriend was coming to visit?"

"He... doesn't know I'm here."

Blythe nods, like it makes sense to her somehow. "Why don't you come in?"

Cuddy follows her into the house, which is plain and almost cold. There are surprisingly few pictures, and no real evidence that a family ever lived here. Cuddy can't imagine House growing up in such a dull environment and wonders how much it's changed since then.

"It's absurd we haven't been properly introduced since you started dating my son."

"I agree."

"But that's not why you're here. If it was, Greg would be with you, or he'd at least know about it."

"It's good to know deduction runs in the family," Cuddy jokes. "I'm not exactly sure I can explain why I'm here."

"If it's to ask for his hand in marriage, you can have it."

Cuddy genuinely laughs. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

They sit down on the couch in the living room. Cuddy feels awkward and unsure and starts to wonder if it's even possible for her to get what she wants through this kind of confrontation.

"I have to say, Dr. Cuddy, you're somehow even more beautiful in person than in pictures."

"Please, call me Lisa. And thank you. House sends you pictures?"

"No, of course not. James emails them to me."

"Right. I should've known."

"The last one I saw of you two was at the hospital holiday party, I believe."

"I remember that being taken. House threw a cupcake at Wilson's head after the flash went off. Wilson spent twenty minutes in my bathroom trying to get red frosting out of his hair."

Blythe doesn't laugh, only smiles weakly. "I notice you also use last names. Wilson. House. Between the three of you, I don't think I've ever once heard a first name."

"It's an unbreakable habit. My mom despises it. She thinks it makes us seem less serious as a couple. When she visits, she calls him Greg constantly just to prove her point."

"So, he's met your mother then?"

Cuddy's not sure if it's resentment or jealousy or sadness she's hearing in the question.

"Very much against his will. But my mom doesn't live that far from Princeton, so he didn't really have a choice."

"I hope you'll stay for dinner."

"I don't want to impose. I showed up with no warning."

"No, no. I insist. It's nice to have company. And it's nice to hear stories about him. I don't get very many these days."

-/-

* * *

Blythe seems to warm up to her over dinner. While they eat, Cuddy talks about work because it's safe and easy to brag about House and all the lives he's saved. She's in the middle of talking about their latest battle over an insane procedure that ended up working when her cell phone starts ringing.

"I'm sorry," Cuddy glances at the caller ID before silencing it. "I have to keep it on in case House calls about Rachel."

"Rachel?"

"My daughter. He's watching her for the weekend."

"Oh."

It's odd because Blythe seems surprised by the mention of a child, but Cuddy can't imagine Wilson leaving such a vital piece of information out of his email updates.

"She's five," Cuddy says, just in case. "I adopted her before House and I were together."

"James told me you had a daughter, but somehow I didn't imagine…"

"That House would be babysitting? It took him a little while to get the hang of it, but he's so good with her now."

"Really?"

"They've gotten very close since House moved in with us, which means the world to me."

"Then why do you look so sad?"

Cuddy thought she had a better poker face, but apparently her emotions are betraying her. Or maybe there's a House family genetic ability to see through her facade. Either way, it's as good an opportunity as she's ever going to get to speak her mind, and she knows she has to take it.

"He's…he doesn't think that he deserves to be her parent. He won't let himself."

"I see."

"It's breaking my heart. He wants it. I think he's managed to surprise himself by how much he wants it."

"What do you think is stopping him?"

It's now or never, Cuddy tells herself, despite the growing knots in her stomach. "Honestly, I think he's still living with the consequences of…."

"My cowardice?" Blythe offers calmly.

"I'm trying so hard to understand, but I don't. I thought I might understand if I met you, but I think I somehow understand even less since I got here."

"You shouldn't understand. I'm glad you don't. I'm not sure I understand it myself."

"Do you know what happens to abused children, medically speaking? Their bodies are in the flight or fight response for so long that it makes them susceptible to all kinds of things. Because their bodies don't realize the threat is gone, they keep operating like it's there. And you can't live like that."

"I didn't know that."

"How..." Cuddy begins, her voice getting caught in her throat, worried about crossing lines she won't ever be able to come back from. "How did..."

"Go ahead. Ask me whatever you want."

"How did you go to bed knowing he was asleep in the yard?"

"I had no idea it was happening."

"How is that possible?"

"John would go into his room after I fell asleep and he'd bring him back inside before I woke up."

"You didn't even suspect something was going on?"

"I knew John was hard on him but I thought...I thought it was all verbal. Not that that's much better. But I thought John was trying to pass on his military discipline. I had no idea it got physical. Nights outside and ice baths don't leave a lot of evidence."

"I guess not."

"You'd like to think you'd know if someone was hurting your child. Greg didn't trust me enough to tell me. He didn't think I'd believe him, or that I'd do anything to stop it. Because even as a child, he saw that I was weak."

"Being in an abusive relationship doesn't make you weak," Cuddy offers.

"John wasn't hurting me. He just made me think I couldn't leave him, even though I knew what we had wasn't love."

"Psychological abuse is still abuse. I see it all the time in our clinic."

"I was brave enough to have an affair, but not brave enough to see what my own son was dealing with. I understand that even though I didn't know, and even though I wasn't the one doing it, I'm still at fault."

Cuddy is torn between wanting to make Blythe feel better, and wanting to hate her for everything that happened. It's a strange paradox that she doesn't know how to navigate.

"When did you first find out?"

"Not until John died. He kept journals that I found after he passed. He wrote about it like he was proud of what he did."

"So House never said anything to you?"

"No, but I finally realized why he always avoided us. I tried to talk to him about it, but it didn't go anywhere. I'm actually relieved that you know, because it means he's talking about it with someone."

"Sometimes. I get information in short vague statements and I have to ask a lot of follow ups. It's hard for him."

"But he trusts you. That's rare."

"Everyone assumes his trust issues are about his leg, but that's not it at all. He assumes he'll never be good enough for the people he loves, that they'll never love him back without hurting him."

"You're right."

"I can't talk to anyone else about this. I feel guilty even talking to you but…"

"You're going to the source."

Cuddy nods. "My relationship with my own mom is kind of a disaster. House was able to help me a lot with how I interact with her. Because after he met her, he suddenly got this part of me that he couldn't understand until then. I'm only trying to get it. The whole picture. I guess that's why I came here."

"I understand," Blythe says.

"I didn't come to be cruel. I hope you don't feel attacked."

"Believe it or not, I respect what you're trying to do. I'm just not sure I have the answers you're looking for, since sometimes it feels like I'm still looking for them myself."

"That's okay. Thank you for hearing me out. And for dinner."

"You should stay here tonight."

"Oh, I appreciate the offer. But I did book a hotel downtown."

"You want to get it?" Blythe challenges. "How are you going to get it from a hotel?"

"Okay."

-/-

* * *

Usually when Cuddy goes away for work, she's in constant contact. The last time she left for the weekend, she called three times a day and sent nonstop pictures and videos as if she wanted House to know every last detail. As much as he might not want to admit it, House is missing those messages, and doesn't understand why he's barely heard from her at all.

"Cuddy didn't send me a picture of her outfit today," he ponders aloud.

"And, what?" Wilson asks. "You're going to die if you go twenty-four hours without seeing her cleavage?"

"I might. But that's not the point. She always sends me her outfits when she's away. It's a thing we do."

They're in Cuddy's kitchen and House has somehow roped Wilson into doing the dinner dishes as he scrolls through his laptop on the hunt for answers.

"This isn't a crisis, House. She's probably busy trying to impress the other administrators."

"Or maybe she doesn't want me know where she really is."

House doesn't know why, but that's what his gut is telling him. And his Cuddy related instincts are normally spot on.

"Paranoid is not a good look on you, my friend."

"Really?" He points to the screen of the laptop in front of him. "Because it says here that she rented a car. Why would you need to rent a car to attend a conference in DC? Everything is right there."

Wilson puts down the dish towel, walks over to the laptop to see for himself. "Are you...are you reading her bank account?"

"She knows I have her password. It's her own fault."

Rachel approaches them, growing impatient of waiting for them to finish up and come play. She tugs on House's pant leg. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out why your mom is being a sneaky little minx."

"What's a minx?"

"He meant to say jinx," Wilson quickly offers.

"Minx is a word you shouldn't repeat to your minx of a mother, unless you want me to get grounded again."

Wilson scoffs. "Ladies and gentlemen, father of the year."

The joke hurts, but it's not Wilson's fault, because he doesn't know what's been going on lately. And the pain is worth it, because the joke also causes House to have an epiphany.

"Oh my god. She's insane."

"Who?"

"Cuddy."

"What? Why?"

It's like solving a case, when he suddenly realizes how obvious the answer was from the very beginning.

"Because I know exactly where she is."

-/-

* * *

When Blythe goes to sleep, Cuddy makes a decision. Because House understands everything about her, and she wants to understand just as much about him. She quietly leaves the guest room and wanders down the hallway to the bathroom. It's the only bathroom besides the one in the master suite, so she knows she's in the right place.

Instead of taking the hot shower she desperately craves, Cuddy turns on the faucet for a bath. She doesn't fill it with ice water, but she doesn't make it warm either. She takes off her clothes, lowers herself into the water, and feels the cold envelop her completely.

Cuddy has goosebumps as she closes her eyes and thinks of House forced into this same tiny tub, his father standing above him, throwing all sorts of verbal abuse his way. She thinks about how it must've felt, how much anxiety it must've caused. She thinks of the way House views the world, and realizes he never stood a chance of seeing it any other way. She thinks of Rachel and how she would die to protect her — how she's pretty sure House would, too.

House doesn't like grand promises, doesn't believe that you can guarantee anything in life. But Cuddy wants nothing more than to go back home and promise him he'll never have to be scared of someone he loves again.

-/-

* * *

House isn't at the airport very long before he starts to wonder if bringing Rachel with him was a good idea. It's hard enough to travel with his leg and his luggage without adding a five-year-old to the mix. What's interesting is that he could've left her with Wilson or Marina or even Julia, but he didn't want to pass off the job that Cuddy entrusted directly to him.

They're on line waiting to board when an obnoxious man, who looks like he could easily be a cast member from the Jersey Shore, pushes his way to the front of the line. House is allowed to board first because of his disability, but it doesn't stop the man from cutting right in front of them like he owns the plane and the airport and the entire world.

Then House sees it happening in slow motion— the guy knocks his luggage directly into Rachel, who starts to lose her footing. He imagines Rachel falling forward, cracking her head or her lip open on the tile floor. House drops his cane and uses both of his arms to catch and steady her, which he does just in time.

"Are you okay?" He asks, as he holds onto her. Rachel nods, slightly out of breath.

It's such a small moment, but he notices something he hadn't before—his instinct. He didn't think about it before he dropped the cane to protect Rachel. It just happened, as if he couldn't control it. He let go of what protects him in order to protect her. He only picks the cane back up once he's sure she's fine.

"Hey, moron," he taps on the shoulder of the guy in front of them, who's oblivious to what happened. "You almost just killed my kid."

He could lie to himself and pretend he's claiming Rachel as his own because it makes his argument more effective. The reality is that he feels possessive over the tiny person currently in his care.

"Sorry man, I didn't see her."

"Really? She's not invisible."

"Relax. I said sorry."

House wants to punch him in the face. Under normal circumstances, he probably would. He chooses not to, because getting into an airport brawl would traumatize Rachel. House would be carried off by security and they would call Cuddy, who would be furious. He starts to think about how Rachel alters a million different choices he makes every single day.

"Huh."

"What?" Rachel looks up at him.

"Nothing. You're just messing with my whole world view."

"Is that bad?"

"Not necessarily."

"I didn't mean to."

"I know. And I didn't mean to let you. I think maybe that's what makes it cool."

She shrugs. "I dunno what you're saying."

He can't possibly explain it, so he simply hands her some chips.

-/-

* * *

When House pulls up to his childhood home, Rachel is asleep in his lap, utterly exhausted from the excitement of the journey. He pays the cab driver and somehow manages to sling his bag over his shoulder, carry Rachel in his arms, and limp up to the door. He knocks loudly, wondering who will answer.

"Greg?!" His mother opens the door and looks shocked to see him, but delighted at the same time. He's not too interested in greetings, and just wants to get what he came for.

"Where is she?" He asks, as he pushes his way into the house.

"Is this Rachel?" His mom answers with a question of her own.

"Nah, just some random kid I found at the airport." He places Rachel down gently on the couch without waking her. "Where's Cuddy?"

"She's in the kitchen."

"I need a minute alone with her. You can watch the rugrat."

His mom doesn't challenge him as he marches into the kitchen, where he sees Cuddy standing over the sink, her back facing him. It's close to an out of body experience seeing her in a room he spent so much time in as a kid.

"This is a really weird venue for an administrative conference, Dr. Cuddy."

She turns around, mouth hanging open in surprise and maybe a little bit of guilt. "I'm going to strangle Wilson with my bare hands."

"Wilson knew? That bastard."

"He didn't tell you?"

"Nope."

"Then how could you possibly have..."

"I don't know how many times I have to explain to you that I _always_ know when you're lying."

"Even if you knew I was lying about the conference, how did you know I was here?"

"Because I've known you twenty years and you're very predictable. Also, I saw the rental car charge on the credit card and figured this was the only place you'd go within reasonable driving distance."

"Damn it. I completely forgot you had access to that."

"You _almost_ got away with it. I saw you even checked into the conference you're not at. That's some impressive attention to detail."

"Well, I did learn from the best."

"It was a good effort, but not quite good enough to outsmart the master."

"If you're here, who's watching Rachel?"

"Right now? My mom. Rachel's asleep on the couch."

"You brought her here? How?"

"We flew," House says.

"Flying with a kid is annoying enough for someone who _doesn't _have trouble walking. Did you two do okay?"

"We had fun. She got the window seat."

"Are you mad at me?"

"For being sneaky and obsessive? That'd probably be a bit hypocritical of me."

"I was coming home tomorrow. If you're not mad, why'd you fly down here?"

"To see the look on your face. Also, since you didn't let me see your yearbook, I had to come hide mine. It's only fair."

"Sorry, too late for that. Loved the track shorts. I asked your mom if she still had them. I thought maybe I'd bring them home so we could see if they still fit."

Finally he crosses the space between them, hugs her, and kisses the top of her head. He can't possibly be upset at what she's done. House has loved Cuddy enough to break patient confidentiality laws, to steal, to get clean, to let a tiny munchkin take over his life. It feels oddly comforting to know she'd go to just as far for him.

-/-

* * *

Dinner is almost ready, so Cuddy wakes Rachel up, a little nervous at how she's going to explain all of this to her daughter in front of both House and his mother— it's a balancing act, to account for everyone's feelings.

"Mommy!" Rachel's eyes open, and Cuddy gets a big hug and kiss. "House said we were gonna surprise you. Are you surprised?"

"Yes, very much. Did you have fun on the plane?"

"We were _so_ high up. I was in the clouds so House taught me about the different kinds of clouds."

"That sounds wonderful," Cuddy says. "And now that you're here, there's someone I want you to meet. Honey, this is House's mom."

Rachel looks at Blythe and then turns to House. "How come you didn't tell me we were seeing my mom _and_ your mom?"

"Because I wanted to save a surprise for you, too. Duh."

"Hi, Rachel," Blythe greets her, bending down to her eye level.

"Hi House's mom."

"You can call me Grandma Blythe."

"I thought grandma was my grandma."

"You can have more than one grandmother," Cuddy explains, hoping there won't be too many follow up questions.

"Are you hungry, Rachel?" Blythe asks."I made pasta and there's even some cookies for dessert."

"Yes, please. My other grandma doesn't let me eat cookies because she thinks sugar is bad."

And that's all it takes for Rachel to be on board with her new family member.

-/-

* * *

Eating dinner with the three most influential women in his life is surreal, and House is grateful that Cuddy is so good at carrying conversations, because he has no idea what to say. There's not exactly an ease between Cuddy and his mother, but there is a palpable level of respect. It makes him wonder what transpired before he arrived.

"Are you sad because House lives with us and not with you anymore?" Rachel asks, out of nowhere.

"I do miss him, but I'm happy he's so happy with you two."

"I'm gonna live with my mommy and House forever."

"You must really like having him there."

"I do."

"What's your favorite part about it?"

"House gives the best hugs and he lives with me now, so I get them whenever I want."

House is floored. He would've bet almost anything that Rachel would say her favorite part of having him around was the cartoon marathons, the candy, the nights they stay up later than she's supposed to.

"Also, sometimes he lets me stand on his feet and then we step on the piano rug in my room together and make songs. It's hard without his cane but we only fell over one time."

"That sounds like a lot of fun. He was always very good at the piano."

"And the guitar!" Rachel adds enthusiastically.

Cuddy turns her head and House is sure it's because she doesn't want anyone to see the tears in her eyes.

-/-

* * *

When Cuddy goes to put Rachel to bed, House is left alone with his mom in the living room. He knows it might be his only chance to hear what happened from her point of view.

"So," he begins. "How was your bonding time?"

"I'm a bit in awe of her."

"Yeah, she tends to have that effect."

"She's a force to be reckoned with."

"She is."

"And she's just bursting with love for you. It's tangible."

House knows that, has known it for a while, but it's nice to hear it from someone who has only seen them interact for a few hours. Before he can answer, she reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a sapphire and diamond bracelet.

"I have something I want to give you."

House vaguely remembers her wearing it on her own wrist over the years.

"I would never curse you with the ring I married your father with. But this bracelet was given to me by my mother, and I always planned to give it to my daughter. Or my daughter-in-law. I want you to give it to Lisa."

"Mom…"

"I'm assuming I won't be invited to the wedding. I'm assuming you two will elope. At least consider bringing James along so I can have pictures."

"If Cuddy and I get married, Wilson will probably perform the ceremony."

"When you get married, this can be her something old and her something blue."

"Pretty sure _I'll_ be her something old."

"Will you give it to her?"

"Yeah," House concedes. "I will."

His mom scoots closer to him on the couch. "I know you don't want to talk about it. But I am sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am."

"I don't blame you. I never did."

"Lisa does."

"No, she's just…"

"Stop," she interrupts. "I wouldn't like her as much if she let me off the hook. She's fiercely protective of you, and would obviously do anything for you, which is exactly why I want her to stick around."

House smirks, proud that Cuddy is his. "Did she tell you about the time she lied under oath for me?"

"She did not. Yet somehow, I'm not surprised at all."

"I was surprised at the time. Not so much now."

"You should feel safe," his mom puts his hand over his own. "With both of them. I hate that you didn't always feel that way around me. Please don't let my mistakes hold you back from the love you deserve."

-/-

* * *

Before getting ready for bed, House goes outside to the backyard for some air, because it's all so much. He's not out there for very long before he hears the sliding door open and sees Cuddy emerge. Her arms are filled with blankets and pillows which she drops on the floor of the patio deck.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

"I have an idea."

"Yes, Cuddy. You had an idea. That's why we're here."

"Shut up."

She goes back inside again, only to come out a few minutes later with two cups of hot chocolate. "Sit down," she instructs, pointing to the blankets.

"What? Why?"

"Let's make a good memory out here."

"Are you asking me to have sex on my parent's deck?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because your mom and Rachel are on the other side of that door."

"They went to bed."

"Let's sit together and drink hot chocolate. If you want. I mean, if you don't want to stay out here, we don't have to."

"I'm good."

He lowers himself to the floor. Cuddy hands him a mug and then joins him, snuggling right up to him. There's something about the moment that makes him realize how lucky he is. He has someone who somehow always knows exactly what he needs, who is willing to love every last complicated part of him.

"Eleven year old me would have never believed I'd come back to this spot with the hottest chick on earth."

"You were eleven? I thought it was high school."

"He got more aggressive in high school. But I think I was eight the first time I slept out here."

"That's… that's not even that much older than Rachel. What did you do all night? Did you try to get back in?"

"No point. He would lock the door."

"And you had to go to school the next day and act like everything was fine."

"Prepared me for a life of pretending my leg is fine."

"Do you believe your mom? That she didn't know?"

"Yeah. Do you?"

"I think so. It's still hard to imagine, especially as a mom. But she seemed genuine when we talked."

"He was good at keeping it from her. He always got me inside before she woke up. And the times he hit me, he would always do it in places no one would see. I knew she wouldn't leave him, so I thought telling her would only make her feel guilty. Or that he'd do the same to her."

"You were brave. You shouldn't have had to be. And the way he thought all of it out so he wouldn't get caught.. it's actually evil."

"I didn't realize that until Rachel."

"What do you mean?"

"I obviously knew hitting your kid is a dick move, but I didn't realize how evil you have to be to look a kid in the eyes and torture them like that. Not until I had Rachel looking at me. I mean, I'm sure she's cuter than I ever was. But still."

"Do you think he knew you weren't biologically his and was pissed about it? So he took it out on you?"

"I think he would've been relieved to know I wasn't his."

"I can't even fathom someone not wanting to claim your brain."

"Yeah, well, you're biased."

"House, I know we aren't into big sappy statements. But you're part of me. And you'll always be a part of me. I think I'm part of you, too. Which means you get Arlene and Julia. And I get this."

"Seems like an unfair deal. My baggage is way heavier."

"Maybe. But mine lives a lot closer. It all evens out."

"Thank you for being insane enough to do this."

"Please," Cuddy laughs. "You once took my blood in my sleep because you thought I was anemic. This is nothing."

"Okay, but I was right."

"Yeah, you were."

House hopes that maybe, just maybe, Cuddy is right about him.

-/-

* * *

The next morning Blythe is woken up by Rachel standing next to her bed. "Are you okay?" She asks the little girl, who is still dressed in her pajamas.

"I can't find my mom or House."

Blythe gets up and takes Rachel by the hand. "I'm sure they're around here somewhere."

The house is completely quiet, and Blythe wonders if they went out to get food, but she doubts very much they would leave Rachel behind. She's about to check if the car is gone, when she has a better idea. She leads Rachel to the kitchen, and opens the sliding glass door to the backyard. She sees her son asleep on the deck, bundled up in blankets and in his girlfriend's arms.

"They slept outside?" Rachel asks, with no idea of the significance.

"Yes."

"How come?"

"Because your mom is a very special person."

"They're always like that. With the cuddling."

"Rachel, I know we just met, but can I tell you something?"

Rachel nods.

"Not everyone's parents have so much love between them. You're a lucky girl."

For the first time in a long time, Blythe feels completely at peace.

**Four months later **

Cuddy bursts into the middle of a differential and House knows within a second that something is very wrong.

"House, I need you."

He's scared by the look on her face, because he's only ever seen it a few times before. He follows her into his inner office, bracing himself for the worst.

"You okay?"

"No," she confirms, almost shaking. "I just got a call from Rachel's social worker."

"What social worker?"

"Rebecca. She's the one who worked with me through the adoption."

"Why would she…"

"She wants to meet with me, but she wouldn't tell me why."

"That's weird."

"I'm freaking out. What if… what if the family… wants her back?"

"Too bad for them," House says firmly. "They agreed to a closed adoption."

"People change their minds. This is my worst nightmare."

"Rachel is without a doubt legally yours. No one can change that."

"Will you come with me to the meeting? I'm scared I won't even be able to process whatever it is she has to say."

"Yeah, of course I will. When is it?"

"She said she'd be here in an hour."

"Want me to come work in your office until then?"

"God, yes."

-/-

* * *

When her assistant lets Rebecca in, Cuddy tries to pull herself together. She doesn't want to lose it before she has a reason to.

"Hi, Lisa."

"Hi, Rebecca. It's good to see you."

Of course, it's not even remotely good to see her. Cuddy is worried she's going to vomit right on the floor.

"This is my boyfriend, Dr. House. He's a big part of Rachel's life. Anything you need to say about her, you can say in front of him."

"You can relax," Rebecca says softly. "Nothing is wrong with Rachel."

She feels House's hand on her back, rubbing small circles, as he speaks up. "Thanks for saying that, because I was getting pretty worried about her shallow breathing."

The three of them sit down, House and Cuddy on the couch, and Rebecca on the chair across from them.

"I'm sorry to scare you both. I didn't want to get into the situation over the phone because it's a bit sensitive."

"What's going on?" Cuddy questions.

"I had a call this morning where we had to remove a four-month-old from a home. There was significant abuse happening. The mother and father were both doing drugs. The baby was left in the sink overnight – like they started to give her a bath but then forgot she was there. Thankfully, a neighbor called the police. She's currently being treated for hypothermia in your pediatric department. There wasn't any heat in the apartment."

"That's awful. I can make sure we put our best doctor on the case."

She feels a sense of relief that Rebecca seems to want medical help that has nothing to do with Rachel.

"That'd be great, but it's not exactly why I'm here. When I got the case file, I noticed that we already had paperwork on the father."

"Oh?"

"As it turns out, he's also Rachel's biological father."

Cuddy's heart sinks all the way to her stomach. "Simon?"

"That's right. He dropped out of high school and things have gone wrong for him since then."

"I'm… sorry to hear that."

"I wanted to make you aware that your daughter's biological half sister was being treated in your hospital."

"Right."

"And also that, if she recovers, she'll be put up for adoption."

Cuddy can't even look at House, who is dead quiet, but still has his hand securely on her back.

"What exactly happened to Simon?"

"He was arrested. Possession. Dealing. Child neglect."

"And the mother?"

"Same charges, minus the dealing. No matter what happens, they won't be getting her back. And they don't have any family around to take her."

"Oh."

"There's no pressure," Rebecca assures her. "I want to make that clear. Wherever she ends up, we can make sure the adoptive family knows she has a sister. Of course, we can't promise they'll pursue a relationship, but in most cases they'd want to."

"What's her name?"

"Hannah."

Cuddy flashes back to a woman stuck under rubble whose death drastically changed their lives forever.

-/-

* * *

House follows Cuddy upstairs to the pediatric wing. Neither of them has said a word since they left the office. A nurse takes them to where Hannah is being treated. Together they stand over her, taking in the sight of a baby who looks so much smaller than four months old. House can see signs of neglect written all over her body. But that's not the only thing he sees.

"She kind of looks like Rachel when she was that size," he says, breaking the silence.

"You remember what Rachel looked like when she was this little?"

"Yeah."

"They do look a bit alike."

"What do you want to do?" House asks, though he's not sure he's ready for the answer.

"I don't know."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I've never even considered another kid. Rachel is perfect and we're so busy."

"Well, whatever you decide."

"Don't be stupid, House. You're the person I want to do life with. We're not taking home a baby unless we both agree."

House appreciates the sentiment, and fully believes that she means it. But as he looks back at Hannah's pale skin and blue lips, he wonders if there will even be something to agree on for very long. He picks up her chart and considers her chances, which don't seem all that high.

"We should probably make sure she lives first."

-/-

* * *

There's nothing to solve about Hannah's case so there's no justifiable reason for House to be involved. It's merely a waiting game, to see if she can build back her strength, to see if she can fight her way back from the brink of death.

House makes his way to see her at least once a day. He does it when Cuddy is busy, because he doesn't want her to assume it means something about what he wants. Frankly, he has no idea what he wants.

Just because the baby has half of Rachel's genetic code, doesn't make her Cuddy's responsibility. It definitely doesn't make her_ his_ responsibility. And just because they've both been abandoned in cold water, doesn't mean he has anything to offer her. He tells himself that none of it means anything, none of it is significant.

Taking on another kid would change everything, it would shift the dynamic they've built so carefully. And that's a dangerous game. He's been doing better over the last few months, has been going to therapy, processing a little more about his past. That doesn't mean he's ready for something as big as this.

And yet. Every day as he watches Hannah get stronger and he feels his admiration growing. For House, admiration has often preceded love. He admired Cuddy before he loved her, watched her run the hospital with strength and grit. He admired Rachel before her loved her, too. He called it admiration before he could accept that it was affection.

He can't help but to think back to when Cuddy first adopted Rachel. How he knew she'd never be with him unless something changed. That's why he hated the idea so much. He knew she wasn't going to adopt a baby and then date a drug addict. In that way, Rachel is a big part of why he stayed sober. All those Wilson lectures about how he needed to be reliable enough for Cuddy and a kid. In Mayfield, he decided that he wanted to have a life. A real life. A life with Cuddy, and Rachel by extension.

And now it's here. Their life together, full and whole. Throwing them a curve ball. They've always been good at handling those, so long as they're doing it together. His mom told him not to let fear dictate his decisions. She hasn't always given him the best advice, but this time he thinks it might be worth listening.

-/-

* * *

"Hannah's going to be fine," House says, one night before bed. He got the confirmation earlier that day, and wonders if Cuddy already knows.

"I heard," she smiles almost shyly. "So, I guess we should stop putting off this conversation."

"Yeah."

"House, I know you don't believe in fate, but…"

"I don't believe in fate," he agrees. "And I definitely don't believe that my dad was an asshole years ago because one day I'd fall in love with a woman with a kid whose dad was also an asshole."

"I know that."

"But I do believe in using what you've been through. Otherwise, what's the point of any of it?"

"What exactly are you saying?"

"I think we should bring Hannah home."

"A few months ago you told me you couldn't be Rachel's parent," Cuddy reminds him without judgement. "I didn't believe you, but _you_ believed you. I can't do this by myself. If we do this, you're going to be living with me and two kids. There's no way you're going to be able to avoid being a parent."

"Yeah, well, people named Hannah have historically made us get our shit together pretty quickly, even when we thought we couldn't do something."

"I thought about her, too."

"Hard not to. Even for someone who doesn't believe in fate."

"Do you ever think about if we'd be here without her?"

"I try not to think about life before you too much."

"We would've ended up together," Cuddy says. "But it would've been different without her. And I like our story. So much so that I need you to understand that being Rachel's mom and being with you, that's enough for me."

"Are you worried that I can't do it?"

"Not for a second. I don't want you to feel pressured. I don't want you to do this because you feel like you have to on my account."

"I'm not," he says, before finally revealing what's been running through his mind. "Hannah's too young to remember what happened to her. But I will."

Cuddy gets it. He knows she does. She hugs him tightly and says, "We both will."

-/-

* * *

House opens the front door, and Wilson bursts out laughing at the sight before him. House has Hannah securely strapped to his chest in a babybjorn and Rachel hanging off his good leg.

"Shut up," he warns.

"Best thing I've ever seen. Hi, Hannah. Hi, Rachel."

"Hi!" Rachel says, before taking off to go play.

"Wilson, please tell me you brought food."

"I brought food," Wilson confirms, holding up two bags of take out.

"You can come in then," House moves aside.

"Why does it look like a tornado hit?"

Hannah's naming ceremony is in two days, and they're nowhere near ready. The living room is an absolute disaster.

"A tornado would've been less destructive," Cuddy says, rushing by them in a cleaning frenzy. "Hey, Wilson."

House scoffs as he reaches for dinner. "The tornado is called 'mom and dad are never home and even Marina has her limits.'"

"Dad," Wilson repeats back. "So...are you? Does that mean..."

"It's faster if Cuddy adopts Hannah first because she's already been approved in the system," House explains. "But when we get married, I'll adopt them both."

"Cheers to that." They knock their Chinese containers together, as if they're two beers. "By the way, your mom told me she's coming this weekend."

"Yup."

"You okay with that?"

"She wants to meet Hannah. I'm not going to stop her. Besides, Cuddy handles Blythe really well."

"Cuddy does have a way with the Houses."

There have been days where the panic seeps back in. Nights he wakes up and has to take deep breaths and remind himself he's capable and worthy. He never knows when the waves of doubt will come, but he knows what to do when they try to knock him over. He grounds himself in the people he loves, the people he's safe with.

Hannah is against his chest, and Rachel runs around behind them. Cuddy looks over at him, and he feels the warmth of her smile. House knows that no matter what comes next, he'll never be cold again.


End file.
